


Entertainment.

by orphan_account



Series: Wasn’t so bad. [1]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Kissing, Making Out, Multi, based on the incident where a condom was burned, paul and pete become closer than usual, pete is charming, pining (mentioned), slight homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21799546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Paul and Pete have a discussion about John, along with a experiment unfolded in the hours they spent in jail.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney, Pete Best/Paul McCartney
Series: Wasn’t so bad. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571383
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Entertainment.

Pete sat down on the single, work out chair in the corner of the cubicle shaped jail cell. Paul stumbled loosely inside after the guard shoved him in aggressively, causing the young lad to fall directly onto the grimy floor of the cell. Pete glanced down at Paul as he scurried back onto his feet, turning around to run back towards the guard who only kicked him back down. Running a hand through his hair, he watched as the German guard slammed the cell door closed with a grunt and a mocking stare at the two young men.

Minutes after that, Paul recovered from the dirty blows and began to pace about, cursing cruelly at anything he could think up.

"Calm down, will you?" Pete asked, removing a hidden cigarette from his pocket with a trembling hand as he slumped against the wall. "We'll get out of here soon won’t get life in jail for burning a bloody condom we won’t." He gingerly added this on with a hint of protectiveness in his voice, eyes locked on a nervous Paul McCartney pacing around the German jail cell they were forced into.

Paul stopped pacing, gave Pete a incredulous glare before approaching the bars of the cell and glancing around curiously for any roaming guards. "God we're in so much trouble. We're in so much trouble Pete." He softly murmured, genuinely scared to death from what the outcome of whatever could turn out to be.

Pete stood up, and approached the shuddering boy. Just turnt eighteen, baby features becoming absent and he seemed to have been slowly becoming; Paul McCartney. After a few seconds, Pete rested his hand on Paul's shaking shoulder and pulled him back a bit. "Have a smoke. S'my last one too. You need it more than I do though." Pete said, removing the cigarette from his mouth and holding it towards Paul.

Paul hesitantly grasped it between his index and thumb, taking a needed drag from it. Pete had then relocated back to his corner, leaving the other man alone not knowing whether to thank Pete or leave it at that. The two hadn't really talked much outside of their band. Quite unusual for Paul, more normally a charismatic man to be significantly tongue-tied around Pete Best.

Paul was beginning to relax, the deadly nicotine flowing through his bloodstream as he exhaled the smoke between his lips. Pete watched him closely, head curiously tilted and his eyes wondrous as Paul began to stride slowly towards the vacant mattress against the wall. Pete continued to stare, wondering how in the fuck he got himself stuck into this mess — with Paul out of all people. It's not like didn't mind, he barely knew the boy to actually form an opinion on him at the moment. From what he did know is that he is John's best mate. Best mate. An understatement to that wouldn't be a stretch to anyone if called out. The two were close, just mushed together like PB&J.

Pete softly and boldly inhaled from his nose, taking in the musk surroundings of the jail they were in. Another cell was set across from them, empty. Another one, a few ways down from the one across was filled with three bulky men who were playing cards with one of the wardens. From a distance there was music, something in the mix of rock and roll or just doo wop.

"Why're you're staring at me?"

Pete blinked, and noticed that Paul was staring at him with a hardened mask of insecurity shading over his features. "Just uh zoned out."

Paul blew out cigarette smoke and huffed, tapping out the ashes before putting it back in between his lips. Pete watched amused as Paul crossed his arms, body trembling with frustration, fear, confusion and loneliness. "Zone out somewhere else then."

Pete chuckled softly, finally glancing down at the floor. "There's nothing else entertaining to look at."

Paul was quick to force out an elaboration from Pete as he turned to face the other man. "What do you mean?" He asked, face flushing with something that resembled a blush. "How am I entertaining to look at? What is there to be entertained about?"

"Well um- what does John find entertaining about you?" Pete asked, words slipping out before he could stop himself from letting them do so.

In seconds, Paul had a look of suspicion on his face and he took another drag from his cigarette before answering. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just see him staring at you all of the time. Smiling and what-not. Must be something entertaining to him, so I'm just trying to look for it."

Paul thought about it for a clean minute, and then reluctantly shook his head, “You’re thinking too much.”

“Could be, or could not. Everyone notices it though. It’s not a bad thing you know. You’re not hard to look at might I say.” Pete rambled, eyes skimming over Paul’s form observantly which caused the other to dart his hazel eyes down to his lap. “Wouldn’t say you look like a bird. Others might, but I wouldn’t.”

“Now you’re taking the piss.” Paul shot, looking back up at Pete with a scowl smeared across his face.

Pete was unmoved. “Am not. I’ve never seen a bird look like you before. Nor have I seen a bloke. You’re your own bag y’know? Must be why you attract everyone.” He spoke, voice coming out smooth and thick with the Liverpool swoon. Paul side eyed Pete, while taking a drag from his cigarette, he was slightly and unusually enjoying the way Pete opened his appearance up like a dictionary.

“Especially John,” There was a sudden pause on Pete’s end and a clearing of throat from Paul who was as red as a tomato, “Especially John.” He shallowly repeated, before standing up and approaching the bed to sit down next to Paul.

Paul immediately pulled back from Pete’s sudden closeness. “Easy son, I’m not going to bite you know. I just need a better look of you.”

“And why for? You’ve already made your weird hypothesis about my alleged entertaining appearance.” Paul spat, face still red with a blush from either embarrassment or embedded flattery.

“Are you and John queer?”

Paul surprisingly wasn’t surprised by this query. Without any hesitation, he just laid it down with a single shrug of his shoulders. “Not interested in men in general. John is just- wait why’re you asking me this?”

It was Pete’s turn to shrug. “I may not converse with everyone a lot, but it’s kind of obvious there’s something going on.”

Paul’s face dropped. “Oh no.”

Pete made a casual expression, and smoothly took the cigarette from within Paul’s hands. “I won’t tell or anything.” He said, placing it in between his lips to take in a huff.

Paul’s eyes narrowed at the other man, and his face scrunched up adorably which caused Pete to hold back a smirk. “How do I know that you won’t tell anyone?”

Pete sighed, and stretched about so he was laying on his back with a hand behind his head, cigarette in his hand. “How does anyone know anything hm?”

“That’s not a good answer.”

“I wasn’t trying to make it good.” Pete replied, looking over at Paul through his unintentional bedroom eyes.

Pete Best laying down casually in bed with Paul basically next to him wasn’t something Paul thought he would be.. _interested_ from. Pete definitely was not a bad looking individual, but he also definitely was not John. Then again, not everything and everyone had to be John.

“Pete- promise that you won’t tell anyone.” Paul said, turning to the other man and watching in interest as Pete skillfully blew the smoke out through his lips.

There was a few seconds that passed by. Paul held his breath, and his hands gripped his own thighs.

“Promise.”

Paul raised an eyebrow.

“I’m a man of my word McCartney.” Pete said, charm-fully winking one eye as he placed the cigarette between his lips again.

“To be truthful I haven’t tried anything with him yet. I- we really actually don’t know what’s going on. I know that there’s something there, neither of us would act on it though.” Paul explained animatedly, hands waving about adorably. “I just don’t want to mess up our relationship. Friendship. I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost John, it’d be hell. No matter the way, you know? I just wonder how exactly this should be done.”

“Puppy love.” Pete purred, fluttering his eyes as he spoke in a posh and high pitched voice.

“Sod off.” Paul said, turning to take off his jacket so he could get more comfortable.

A silence dangled in the air, and here Pete was watching Paul intently again. The man wasn’t as pale as he was when they first got arrested. Paul’s big, hazel coloured eyes weren’t teary with fear and anger towards the German police anymore. Pete ran a tongue across his rather chapped lips as he watched the way Paul’s teddy boy hairstyle began to deform. Dryly gelled hair tips shriveled into a small curls that hang as little bangs over his face, and his cheeks were still flushed with a small blush that lingered on passionately. Droopy puppy dog, doe eyes, kissable plump, cupid bowed lips, all the answers to John’s infatuation in Pete’s head.

“Mind if we kissed?”

Paul snapped his head in Pete’s direction, the sudden question almost making him break his neck on impact. “Pardon?”

“Mind if we kissed Paul? I just want to try something out. See if these queer feelings could spread you know?” Pete winced at his own poor excuse, he really wanted to kiss Paul just to beat John at his own game. Although he hadn’t really been infatuated with Paul, there was no doubt that the question lingered in the air whether if he and Paul could hit it off or not. Then there was the fact that John was literally better than him at anything, one thing John thought he couldn’t succeed in being to anyone.

Paul dawned over the thought of kissing Pete for a few minutes. His eyes never leaving Pete’s, and how he watched intently as the other sat up on his bottom with his hands holding himself up.

“What kind of charade are you trying to pull?”

Pete stomped out the cigarette, and rolled his eyes at the question he thought was idiotic. “Already told you I’m a man of my word. What makes you think I’d pull a charade?”

“You told me that when you promised that-”

“Whatever I promise at this moment goes for everything.” Pete said, he hadn’t mean to cut the other man off but he was sure enough that he had proven himself. “It’s just one kiss, no one will speak of it. It will be forgotten, gone, end of story.”

“What if- what if one of us likes it?” Paul asked, hands going up to his mouth so he could bite on his nails. A mechanism due to anxiety, and excitementall mixed in with each other.

Pete hadn’t thought of that, nor had he thought of an answer. All he could do was just shrug his shoulders, an impish grin settled upon his lips. “Then we like it.” He said eventually, his tone now soft and convincing. “C’mon Paul, no one will know.”

“Yeah, sure and then Stuart will come up to me one day, asking me if I got shagged by you.” 

“Why’re you worried about what Stuart thinks?” Pete asked, a smirk gently spreading across his face. For some reason, he knew that Stuart was one of Paul’s buttons that should never be pushed. 

After a minute of trying to argue with that question, Paul shook his head.

”Thought so.”

Eventually Paul sighed, and reluctantly turned towards Pete who sat all the way up so he could criss-cross his legs. Paul decided to sit in the same style, getting as close as possible to Pete until their legs and feet were touching. Pete nodded his head, glancing over Paul’s features for a bit before moving a hand to Paul’s shoulder and settling it on there to pull him in.

Paul closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose as his cheeks burned with fire while he felt Pete’s breath on his lips. For some reason his heart was pounding harshly in his ears, and he couldn’t help but to hold his breath until Pete slowly pressed his lips against Paul’s. Pete’s eyes fluttered closed then, body beginning to feel unsettled as he just realized that nothing was happening. Paul had felt the same rush, deciding it was fair to just snap out of it and go in for the kill. Soon he reciprocated, slowly moving his lips against Pete’s which made the other follow up and do so as well.

Paul seemed to fallen into a haze, realizing he was kissing Pete. John’s best mate. Best mate. He realized he was not kissing John, but he was kissing Pete. How lovely, first same-sexed kiss and it wasn’t even the man he loved. Although, it wasn’t all bad. Paul definitely hadn’t expected Pete’s lips to be so soft and smooth against his. The hand on his shoulder keeping him place, the soft breaths and sighs leaving Pete’s throat as they kissed ever so passionately wasn’t something that Paul was expecting.

Pete tilted his head, making it more comfortable as the kiss began to normalize itself. Their lips moved in sync, sounds of their soft breathing made the dark, filthy cell become coated with what seemed like rainbows and green fields. After a few more seconds, Pete pulled away not noticing how Paul subtly chased after the kiss. “Wasn’t so bad.” Pete said, secretly yearning for more.

Paul reached for the lapels of Pete’s jacket and brung him in for another kiss. This time it wasn’t as awkward as before, tongues swiping against each other and moans being driven from the depth of each other’s throat. This time Pete became toppled on top of the other man, their lips never releasing hold of each other until they both ran out of breath.

Both of them pulled away, with a single strand of saliva still connecting them together. “Wasn’t so bad.” Paul had then said, breathlessly quoting Pete from a few seconds ago.

Both of them jumped, startled out of their minds as an obese guard aggressively swung his club against the cell bars. Thus creating a obnoxious echoed banging sound.“Bedtime you queers. If you want to go off and fuck do it when you get deported at dawn.” He said in a thick german accent, before turning away and storming off disgustedly.

“Very well sir.” Pete mumbled, looking down at Paul who was staring at him for once. “We do not speak of this. John would have my head.”

“I assume he’d have mine too.” Paul spoke softly, realizing he still had a grip on Pete’s jacket which made him awkwardly release it. “I um- liked it by the way. The kiss I meant.”

Pete laid back against the mattress, and stared up at the ceiling. His heart was racing, and his cheeks were bubbling but he immediately ignored the feeling. He couldn’t fall for this man, not now, not ever. “Good for you son, good for you.”

A few awkward seconds rolled by until Paul spoke up. “I’m off to bed now.” With that, he turned and laid on his side at the opposite direction of Pete.

“Night Paul.”

“Night Pete.”

“I liked it too. Hopefully John gets a taste of that.”

Paul’s body stiffened, and a red blush came across his cheeks again at the thought. “Ye- Yeah me too.”

•••


End file.
